


Wildflower

by Combination_NC



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, First Crush, First Time, Romance, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combination_NC/pseuds/Combination_NC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She stands out in the tower's grey hallways, forever enticing due to her spirit. But hidden away in a deserted wardrobe, the way she moves, feels and sounds matters more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildflower

She stands out from the other apprentices even as they are all dressed the same. She moves with a  _grace_  the others lack, forever noticed as she walks through the hallways. He, like so many others, cannot take his eyes off her. It is not because of the gentle curve of her breasts or hips, how she so clearly has them and a  _waist_  in between, noticable even in ill-fitting robes. Is it not about how her smile is warm and her eyes gentle or how she wears her dark hair tied together with a red ribbon. It is none of those things, at least not for him.

For him, it is the  _spirit_  she retains, even in this closed off space. How she can laugh with such delight in a place like this, how she is still able to find joy in things in here.

They talk of their old homes, at times; not because he is sure he wants to dwell on his past much, but because she asks him and tells him of hers. A sunnier place, and closer to the ocean. Warmer, and she misses it, she is always missing the  _heat_.

They create some of their own between them, because something about her ignites a spark in him, and she is drawn to sparks.

The wardrobe in her dorm is large enough to fit them both; it is a tight one, but it is one. They push their robes aside and she straddles him, lowering herself onto him, tight around him and warm against him. She breathes into his ear before kissing him, close to devoring him, and she sets the pace. His hands are under her robes and on her hips and on her breasts, confirming what his eyes always suspected; all curves and all soft skin.

Her curves and her softness, the weight of her on him and the feeling of her around him, the rocking movements and the rises and the falls; all of it that makes him not want it to be over brings him to the end of it far too quickly.

He does not call out her name, simply breathing heavier against her. He cannot see her smile in the darkness, but he feels it, warm as always as she guides his fingers, whispering instructions of how he is to move them inside her, bringing her to the point where she does not call out his name, either.

This is not about  _Bianca_  and this is not about  _Karl_ , because to be attached to the owner of a name in such a way is a dangerous thing; and so  _this_  is about warmth, to find joy in another body. Again, and again, and again.


End file.
